


My Best Friend

by allisonnewsfieldfromspaaaacee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock Fluff, London, M/M, POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:22:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allisonnewsfieldfromspaaaacee/pseuds/allisonnewsfieldfromspaaaacee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John talks about how much Sherlock means to him and how important they are to eachother</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Best Friend

“Keep your eyes fixed on me.”

That’s what he told me.

“Please, will you do this for me?”

Confused, I responded to his question. “Do what?”

A second of silence. I couldn’t hear him breathe. “This phone call… It’s my note.”

The gears turned in my head, trying to figure out what he meant. Note? What was he…

“Goodbye, John.”

It clicked.

“No. Don’t…”

Before I could choke the words from my throat, he dropped the phone from his ear.  

I couldn’t bear to look, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

I knew that instant that I would never forget that image. The man standing on the roof, his coat flapping in the wind, peering over the edge. This man, about to end it all, just to keep the people he cared for safe.

To keep me safe.

It all happened too quickly, but time just moved so slow. The man took a step forward, into the thin emptiness of the sky. I’m not sure how long it took for him to fall. A second. A minute. An hour. To protect me, this man killed himself.

My man.

Sherlock.

As he began to sway into the abyss, I felt the name form on my lips. It came out as a whisper. Or maybe as a shout. I couldn’t hear it. I couldn’t hear anything at all.

He held his arms out like an angel. My angel. My guardian angel. No matter how insane he drove me with his antics and quirks and oddities, his pure Sherlock-ness, he would always be there, watching out for me, my only source of order in this huge, chaotic world.

Not anymore.

My world followed him off that roof. All my dreams, hopes, cares, worries. Everything that I was or wanted to be jumped right off that roof with him.

With the honk of a Taxi, my mind came back to me. I realized where I was, what was happening. How quickly it had taken for him to hit the ground. I couldn’t take it.

No.

No, I knew he was alive. He had to be. He’s Sherlock, you can’t kill Sherlock.

I had to push my way through the crowd of people who had gathered around him. Some were crying, others were holding their loved ones comfortingly. They didn’t even know him. Why were they crying?

Then I saw him. Laying spread-eagle on the ground, chest down, bleeding from the head. It’s okay, that’s not his blood, I told myself. But for some reason, tears were streaming from my eyes. I don’t know why, he was fine.

He has to be fine.

I turn him over, to see the glint in his eye, to see his smile about the stupid trick that I knew he’d think was funny.

There was nothing.

Nothing at all.

Someone started pulling on my shoulder, getting him away from the man on the ground. “No, wait, I’m a doctor! Please, I can help him, I’m a doctor…” These are the words that I managed to get out. I couldn’t say anything else, they were already pulling me behind the crowd. “Wait, no, I’m a doctor! I can help him!”

They didn’t listen.

After that was all a blur. They brought Sherlock out and put him in the back of an ambulance. My phone rang a few times. I think I took a cab somewhere. I don’t remember, it’s not like it matters anymore.

Sherlock. That’s his name. Every time I say it I hear his voice, see his face, remember all the adventures we went on, everything that we did together.

I wish… I wish I could have told him about… about how I really felt. That brilliant, beautiful man was the best friend I’ve ever had. And now he’s gone. I’d give anything to see his face again. I just… I wish… Heh, sorry, I don’t mean to tear up like this. It’s just… I’m sorry… Give me a minute.

**************************************************************************************************

Alright, I’m sorry about that. Had to clear up a bit. I’m fine now.

But... He’s gone. Sherlock. Gone. Just, like that. My world came crashing down with him. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what’s I want, I barely even know who I am anymore.

And that’s why I’m here. Here, in this bar, telling you my story. The story… The story of the day that I died. The man that I loved, died.

The day my best friend died.

 

 


End file.
